


The Horrorterrors

by leviathanSlewfoot



Series: Crossovers [3]
Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, Durarara!!, Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Game, Asperger Syndrome, Asphyxiation, Autism, Autistic Orihara Izaya, Body Horror, Bondage, Child Neglect, I'm Sorry, Implied Mind Rape, Implied tentacle sex, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, No Sex, OCD, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Orihara Izaya has OCD, Other, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Pre-Poly, Roxy Lalonde has OCD, Tentacles, Trans Female Jade Harley, Trans Jade Harley, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-04-05 07:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14039364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leviathanSlewfoot/pseuds/leviathanSlewfoot
Summary: Rose never really did have a strong survival instinct.In which I completely go crazy over character interactions and use this pathetic story as an excuse for my horrible actions.





	1. The Nightmares

Darkness was all that Rose could see. A liquid void was all around her, filling her nose and throat, flooding her lungs. She couldn’t breathe, and it tasted of oil and salt water and blood.

Tentacles wrapped around her ankles, wrists, waist, and neck, squeezing tightly, so tightly that bubbles spilled out of her mouth, and Rose couldn’t breathe!-

Rose shot upwards from her bed, her chest heaving.

She closed her violet eyes, running a hand through her platinum blonde hair. She took a deep breath in… and released it.

“Perhaps Dave was correct; I do read too much Lovecraft…”

Rose chuckled at herself sardonically. “Freud would have a field day with me.”

She opened her eyes and went through the motions of the morning. She made her bed, sneaked downstairs past her passed-out mother (she knew, of course, that even if she didn’t sneak, her mother wouldn’t wake up, but it was much more interesting to quietly slink down the stairs than to simply walk down them), ate breakfast, sneaked back upstairs to her room, and opened up a random book from her personal library.

This particular book that she picked for that day was titled The Speckled Band, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Rose exhaled in relief. Thank god it wasn’t one of her numerous Lovecraft stories.

She set herself to read of Mr. Holmes’ escapades.  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
Later that morning, Rose received a message from her distant relative, turntechGodhead, also known as Dave. She responded on her own chathandle, called tentacleTherapist.

TG: yo, rose  
TT: Yes, Dave?  
TG: what are those things that you talk about all the time called?  
TT: The Great Old Ones. Might I ask why?  
TG: jade and i thought up a better name for those creepy tentacle fuckers

Rose raised a brow. 

TT: Oh? I suppose you have already incorporated this word into a rap.  
TG: you bet, kinswoman of mine. i wrote all of the raps  
TG: all  
TG: of  
TG: them  
TT: I also expect that I will be an audience to these raps?  
TG: you know it  
TG: front row tickets, rose. for free

The Tagalog-Hebrew girl snickered at her cousin’s ironic shenanigans. 

TT: So cool.  
TG: so cool  
TT: What name did you and Jade decide upon?  
TG: the horrorterrors  
TT: Oh?  
TG: yeah  
TG: because theyre horrible, terrible, and terrifying  
TG: and jade says that she has other friends that have  
TG: “experience”  
TG: with the horrorterrors  
TT: Fascinating.  
TG: we also don’t feel that warm and fuzzy about you calling them great ones 

Rose’s eyebrows creased. 

TT: Why ever not?  
TG: look  
TG: rose  
TG: im just asking you to be careful, as your cousin  
TG: as your friend  
TG: as your brother  
TG: please

Rose sighed. 

TT: Very well. 

She closed her laptop, then grimaced as she massaged her temples. The whispers of the Horrorterrors had permeated her thoughts for months now, ever since her first nightmare. She had tried avoiding sleep altogether, but the dreams held just as much intrigue as they did danger, and Rose never did have a strong survival instinct.  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
She was drowning in void once again, that night, when something new happened in her dream.

Once she was secured again by the tentacles and her mouth released a silent scream, another tentacle dove into her mouth and down her throat.

Rose gagged, biting the appendage, but the taste of ink was her only reward.

The end of the tentacle shot a substance into Rose’s system filling her stomach with it, almost until she overflowed.

When Rose woke up, she ran to the bathroom, threw up the toilet seat, and wretched into the bowl. The vomit smelled of oil, ink, blood, decay, and seawater. When she opened her eyes, the only thing she saw was a grimdark reflection of herself rippling in the unnaturally dark liquid.

Darkness.


	2. The Purging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose finds out that she might have gotten in over her head.

Darkness.

Rose’s eyes widened, and she sputtered and choked. More of the blackness dribbled down her chin. “Shit,” she swore.

Her mother knocked on the door. “Rose? What’re you doin’ in there? Are you alright? I thought I heard somethin’.”

Rose turned towards the door, glaring with spite for her hungover mother. “I’m fine, mother. You can go back to your life now.”

The girl winced at her own choice of words. Get back to her life? That implied that the woman had a life to go back to.

Rose’s mother did nothing but vacuum the carpet, occasionally ask about her daughter's (non-existent) love life, poke at Rose’s enjoyment of Lovecraft, and get drunk every night.

Rose's mother was hardly a mother at all. She had no responsibility raising anybody.

Said woman sighed. “Alright. Let me know if you want anythin’.”

Rose glowered from her spot on her knees before the toilet. “I won't, thank you,” she whispered.  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
After Rose took a shower and brushed her teeth to clean the disgusting taste from her mouth, she quickly did her makeup (black lipstick, black eyeliner, and purple eyeshadow), then ran into her mother's bathroom to find her black nail polish.

Her mother had taken it upon finding it, declaring that it was too “shady” for a young lady such as herself. “People'll start thinking you're a thug,” she had ranted.

Once Rose found the polish, she ran into her room and locked the door, banishing thoughts of her drunken mother with the slam.

She opened Netflix on her laptop and started watching The Dead Poets’ Society as she painted her nails the shining dark hue.

Rose sighed in contentment. After such a disappointing morning, she deserved this breaking in the bridges of grief.  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
Rose did not have the nightmare now, but now, things were happening to her.

The day after, her lips turned black. When she removed her black nail polish, she found that her nails had turned black. Her platnum blonde hair started to turn white from the roots, and her scleras slowly became darker and darker until they turned black as her pupils paled to white, while her violet irises remained the same. After a week, her skin began to lose its color, turning grey in a matter of days.

Rose began throwing up much more often, the black ink in her gut seeming unending.

Her mother never noticed, but Dave did, even though he wasn't even there. They had several frustrating conversations about it, but could never come to a peaceful resolution.

After one of these arguments, Rose growled and slammed her laptop shut.

She must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing Rose knew, she was trapped in the tentacles’ grasp once again.

This time was… different, however. The tentacles were gentle and careful with her, as if they were carrying something precious. Something cared for. Something delicate.

They cradled Rose and wrapped around her torso loosely, starting to rock her back and forth like an infant.

Not expecting this gentle treatment, Rose relaxed into them, allowing one to brush over her face, then through her hair.

She felt a human hand replace it, and it brushed her bangs from over her eyes.

“Rose,” a male voice said ever-so-softly. “I need to you open your eyes for me, Rose Lalonde.”

The hand traveled down her face and lifted her chin gently, then fingers traced her eyelids.

“Seer, I need you to open your eyes. Can you do that, please?”

Rose opened her eyes with a slight bit of difficulty. She was now on a bed, in a room that was completely white.

The man before her was a little over twenty, and he wore a v-neck sweater under a brown coat that had beige fur lining it. Like her, his skin was grey, and his scleras were black while his pupils were white. His irises were crimson. He smirked, his short black hair shining in the light.

Rose squinted. “Who are you?”

“I am Izaya Orihara,” the man responded, “and you are Rose Lalonde, the girl the Great Ones have prophesied about for millions of eons. Welcome to your mindscape.” He gestured to the space around them.

Rose tried to get up, but found that she couldn't. “Why can't I move?”

He reached down under her knees and the small of her back, lifting Rose like she weighed nothing. “Because you are new to this. In time, you will learn to manipulate your mindscape self. For now, however, you must rely on me for most matters.” He started walking towards a small table that had two chairs sitting across from each other. He set her down on one, then sat at the other.

“We have much to discuss, Rose, in a short amount of time. So, we cannot begin with your questions. I am one of the Great Ones, having taken the form of a human so that you would be more trusting of me. You have been experiencing some disturbing changes as of late, have you not?” He gestured to her form. “These changes have taken place on both your physical self and in your mind.” He gently tapped her ashen forehead. “You will see the effects of these changes very soon. You will be the Seer of the Great Ones, Rose Lalonde, you will become one of us. However, you must swear an oath first.”

He picked her up again and set her down on the bed, then started stroking her right cheekbone with his thumb, causing a peculiar sleepiness to come over Rose.

“Repeat after me. I, Rose Lalonde.”

Rose struggled to keep her eyes open. “I, Rose Lalonde.”

Izaya smiled down at her almost like a caretaker would their charge, then started to use his other hand to trace circles in her temples and her forehead. He seemed to be hitting certain points there that just increased Rose's weariness. “Do solemnly swear.”

“Do solemnly swear.” Rose squinted, trying her best to stay awake and aware, even though both her mind and body seemed to be fading away from herself, leaving her in a darkness of sleep that seemed impossible to resist.

“To open my eyes, mind, and self to the darkness of the universe,” he cooed, his voice slipping like honey into Rose's mind, his words taking root deep in her mind and soul. He swept both thumbs under her eyes, tracings all sorts of swirls and shapes into her skin, then playfully tapping the tip of her nose.

This caused Rose to sneeze quietly, to which Izaya responded by smiling and chuckling. “Bless you.”

“To… open my eyes, mind, and self to the darkness of the universe…” Rose was so tired, under barrage by Izaya's bizarrely soothing caresses, by the warmth and comfort of the bed under her, and by the sensation of steadily being rocked, back and forth, back and forth…

“To renounce my past life in order to be born anew.”

Rose's vision became blurry, and she felt cool fingertips gently push her eyelids down, then draw circles over them.

“To renounce,” Rose failed to muffle a yawn, “my past life in… order to be born anew.”

Izaya stroked the bridge of the girl's nose, applying pressure to a certain spot between her eyebrows that caused Rose to fall even further into the trance.

“And to serve the High Order of the Great Ones for all of time.”

“A-and…” Suddenly, Rose realized what she was doing, and her eyes snapped open. “Wait, no-!”

Izaya quickly and firmly pressed his hand to her mouth before she could say more. “Sh. Hush now. Just say it, Rose, then you'll be finished. I’ll even tell you a story before you go to sleep, hm?”

He smiled down at her, then took out an injection needle from his coat pocket. “Hold still for a moment.”

He swiftly pressed the needle into an artery in her neck, then shushed Rose when she whimpered in pain. “This won't last long, Seer. Just a few more moments.”

He emptied the contents of the syringe into Rose's vein, then gently pulled the needle out.

“There, see? All done. Now, Rose, repeat after me." He grinned down at her sadistically. "To serve the High Order of the Great Ones for all time.”

Rose tried to struggle, but she couldn't even move.

After a few moments, Rose felt a fogginess start to cloud her brain. Her eyelids drooped unwillingly, and Izaya removed his hand from her mouth.

The words tumbled from Rose’s sleepy lips before she could stop them. “And to serve the High Order of the Great Ones for all time.”

Izaya smiled, patting the top of her head. “Good,” he praised her, “very good.”

Rose finally managed to lift her left hand, and used it to weakly cling to the arm of Izaya’s coat. “What did you do to me?”

Izaya easily pried the girl's hand from his arm. “I do hope you don't expect an answer, Ms. Lalonde, because you're not receiving one. You can figure it out on your own.”

Rose strained to stay awake. “You… you can't do this!”

The man that Rose had just begun seeing as a father figure before she came to her senses laughed.

“Rose, Rose, Rose. Silly girl. I thought you knew that Great Ones can do whatever they wish.” He smirked, then lifted the covers of the bed over her form.

“Then again, I did promise you a story. Alright, then. I’ll tell you a story, Rosie, but then you have to go right to sleep! Got it?” He leaned down and made eye contact. “I can tell you’re tired, so I’ll make it quick.

“There was a time when the Great Ones believed that they would die out. Many of them were dying from the new species called humanity. They would lure us into their dreams and kill us while we were trapped there.”

Izaya ruffled Rose’s hair, soft despite it not having been washed in weeks.

“They organized a council, and made a decision. They would impregnate a human, and they would birth a human hybrid. These hybrids would populate the earth, blending in with the rest of them, and one day, we would visit their dreams, and remind them of their Great heritage.”

He leaned down to her ear.

“You think you’re human, Rose Lalonde? Guess again. You're something much more. Now, go to sleep. You're going to need it."  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
When Rose woke up, it was as if none of the changes that had taken place on her body had ever happened.

Her skin, though pale, was its formal tan color. Her hair had its blonde sheen back. When she checked in the mirror, her eyes were back to normal.

Rose sighed, then simply passed out on to her bed, too tired to even try to make sense of the dream for now.

Darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. The Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose's mother has friends in Japan.

Darkness was all that Rose could see as she stared out of her window at midnight, pondering what her dream/nightmare/vision could have possibly meant. She had just woken up a few minutes before, so she hadn't been awake for long.

She sighed. This most recent development was really quite shocking. She had had a dream about a man who told her that she might be something other than human, and then proceeded to make her fall asleep in the dream.

Extremely unsettling.  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
That morning, Rose had been contemplating whether or not to tell her cousin and friends about her dream. She had reasoned that it would be unwise to do so, for several different reasons that she was writing in her decision-making notebook (it often helped her to reason with paper and ink, rather than simply keeping it all in her mind. She liked to have everything in front of her).

 _"Reason #1,"_ she inscribed in the pages of her journal, _"the topic of the dream itself is rather disturbing, not to mention quite unrealistic."_

_"Reason #2, my mother would not be pleased to discover, when she looks through my laptop, that her anathema of a daughter is now having dreams about an eldritch abomination in human form telling her that she is the spawn of the Great Ones._

__

_"Reason #3, Dave would not be pleased to discover that his enigma of a kinswoman is now having dreams about an eldritch abomination in human form telling her that she is the spawn of the Great Ones, or the Horrorterrors._

__

_"Reason #4, Neither John nor Jade would be pleased to discover that their prodigy of a friend is now having dreams about an eldritch abomination in human form telling her that she is the spawn of the Great Ones, a.k.a. the Horrorterrors."_

Rose groaned in exasperation, snapping the journal shut. Honestly, she loved and appreciated the three members of her so-called “support group” more than she had ever cared about anyone else, but they could be rather suffocating when it came to Rose’s mental health.

Later, when she was making her way down the stairs, Rose noticed that her mother’s form was not laying unconscious on the couch as usual. This concerned her.

She ceased attempting to be inconspicuous. “Mother,” she called cautiously, “are you there?”

A crashing noise came from the kitchen. “Rose! Uh- shit. One sec, _cher._ ”

Rose rolled her eyes at her mother's obsession with the French language, sprinting to the kitchen to see what mess she had made. “Mother?”

Roxy Lalonde stood in the middle of the kitchen among scattered pots and pans, a flour-covered mess. She smiled weakly. “Hey,” she greeted.

Her pink eyes were haunted by soft, purple bruises under them. Otherwise, her skin was flawless. Her sandy blonde hair contrasted with her darker complexion, probably the only thing that her mother had passed down to Rose. This gave her a rather exotic appearance, comparing to the average person in the United States. Thinking about it objectively, Rose’s mother was a beautiful young women, only in her early thirties, having been impregnated with her daughter when she was really too young to be thinking about children.

While Rose couldn't blame her mother for being this way, that didn’t mean that she could forgive her entirely. Make no mistake, she was bitter towards her mother. She just knew how to reason with herself.

“What are you doing,” Rose asked exasperatedly, edging closer to the culinary crime scene.

The woman allowed a few nervous giggles to escape her lips. “Uh, yeah. This. Uh, I was trying to make pancakes.”

“Trying,” Rose mumbled, “right. I suppose you want me to clean up after you.”

Her mother's eyes widened. “No! I can- you know what? Could I just talk to you, Rose?” Her high heels clicked against the linoleum floor as she walked to the kitchen table, pulling up two chairs next to it.

She delicately grabbed Rose’s hand, leading her to a chair and sitting her down there, after which she sat down on the other.

Rose raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

Rose’s Mother bit her lip. “Did I ever tell you about your grandparents? On my side?”

The twelve year-old nodded. “Yes.”

“Of course. Yeah. So, we traveled a lot, because of my dad’s job. I learned a lot of different languages that way.”

Rose leaned back and closed her eyes, feeling a migraine pounding at her temples. “Mother, could you please get to the point?”

A sigh. “Yeah. Um, well, some of my friends from the school I graduated from, Raira Academy, want to have a get-together to… Uh, well, to get together.”

Rose sighed, getting up. “Alright. How long should I expect you to be gone for?”

The woman pulled her daughter back down. “Wait! I- uh, well, I know that I usually let you stay here on your own for these sorts of trips, but… I was thinking you could come with.”

Said daughter frowned. “Why would you think that?”

“I… I just thought that you’re mature enough to deal with other adults,” she said, looking to the floor. “Since you’re so nerdy with your dictionary.”

The girl had to stop herself from yelling at her reckless mother. “You think I want to go to Japan at all?”

“I can help you learn Japanese, I’m sure you’ll be able to- wait, how’d you know it was in Japan?”

Again, Rose rolled her eyes. “Raira is a Japanese word, is it not? I learned Japanese when I was ten, _Kaa-san,_ ” she said mockingly.

Roxy Lalonde blinked. “Uh, okay… Well, that was it.”

Rose Lalonde got up. “Good. Now, if you don’t mind, I have some packing to do. How long are we going to be gone for,” she asked as she walked away.

“A week,” she heard her mother peep.

Rose slammed the door to her room, groaning loudly as she fell onto her bed. Finding out that she was going to be spending a week in a foreign country wasn’t exactly what she had planned for her day.

Rose’s cat, Jaspers, jumped up to the violet bed sheets and nuzzled her soft face against Rose’s, purring.

Rose lifted her hand to scratch the obsidian-furred feline behind the ear.

“Jaspers,” she whispered to the cat, “am I perhaps going mad? What do you think?”

In response, the cat licked the girl’s nose, the ticklish sandpaper feeling on a particularly sensitive spot causing her to sneeze.

Her brows furrowed. “Thank you, dear Jaspers, for your extremely helpful input. I will indeed take it into consideration."  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
About three days later, Rose and her mother were on a plane that would go from New York (Rose's home state) to California, and after a brief stop to fuel the gas tank, it would take them to Tokyo, Japan.

Rose took out her decision-making notebook, flipping it open to the page she had left on a few days earlier.

 _"Reason #5,"_ she continued, _"I might be going insane, and I don't want any of my friends to know that. I don't want them to worry. They don't deserve that. Dave has enough on his plate of teenage angst, false arrogance, and guardian neglect and abuse, while John and Jade are too important for me to taint with my issues."_

__

__

_"Reason #6, my mind has proved itself to be similar to a kaleidoscope in the way that it can show dazzling and complex images that don't necessarily make much sense, and can change at a moment's notice. This occurrence may be nothing except an overactive mind."_

In this fashion she continued to sketch out her concerns and thoughts about the dream until she dozed off at reason number thirteen.  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
"So, you're coming to Japan," a silky voice dripping with sweetness echoed.

Rose opened her eyes to find herself in what appeared to be a large apartment room. She was sitting on a sofa, arranged so that she was facing a wall that had a bookshelf running along it. Rose craned her neck to observe the rest of the room, but before she could observe much more, she saw the source of the voice that had snapped her out of her light slumber.

Izaya sat at a desk tapping at a computer, his confident smile always present on his lips. He turned his gaze to the girl. "Hello, Rose," he greeted. "I hope you don't mind the change of scenery that much. As your mindscape is relatively new, I found it rather dull, so..." he gestured to the space around them. "I brought you here, to mine. It's simple, but I call it home."

With some difficulty, Rose pushed herself up off of the couch onto weak, trembling legs. "What... do you want, Orihara," she asked, referring to the man by his last name.

Izaya leisurely strolled over to Rose, and, with a small push to her shoulder, sent her back down onto the sofa. "I wouldn't do that quite yet if I were you, Ms. Lalonde. You haven't quite got the control required to stand properly yet. I don't want anything from you, I only take the time to speak to you like this because I thought you would appreciate the opportunity to ask me some questions, now that you and I both have the time." He sat down on the sofa across from her.

Rose narrowed her violet eyes at him. "Why would you care about what I appreciate?"

He chuckled. "Why do you ask that? If I'm willing to let you ask your questions and give you answers, you really shouldn't question it. 'Don't bite the hand that feeds you,' as the saying goes."

"What if the answers you give are false, or if you use them to manipulate me into doing your bidding?"

"A suspicious one, hm?" Izaya took a sip out of a teacup in his hand that wasn't there before. "Would you like some cocoa?"

Rose looked down to see a teacup with steaming dark brown liquid swirling in it on top of a saucer in her lap. She rose a brow. "I'm not particularly fond of sweets," she said, smelling it subtly. It smelled of some sort of foreign spice, not exactly what Rose had been expecting. She looked up at the man, waiting for an explanation.

He smiled. "Not the kind you're thinking. This is made the same way that the people known as the Aztecs originally made it. They believed that the cocoa seed was a gift from their God of wisdom, you know."

"Quetzalcoatl," Rose affirmed, taking a sip of the warm drink. It was slightly bitter as well as spicy. However, it reminded her of the cinnamon she would stir into a cup of warm milk mixed with chocolate syrup. It tasted like the closest thing she would ever get to a home. A rather comforting feeling, considering that she lived with a mother who was always drunk, if not even _there._

"You like it," he more stated than asked, "or at least, I should hope you do."

"Why?"

"Because the Aztecs were somewhat correct in their theory about cocoa beans being a gift from a God. In reality, the Great One, whose name was indeed Quetzalcoatl, created the cocoa plant when Earth itself was forming. You see, the Great Ones created reality as a sort of project to turn to when they were bored. It was a collaborative thing. Quetzalcoatl was to cocoa as Prometheus was to fire. Cocoa is truly the drink of the Gods in this way." He chuckled. "Humans really are interesting in their ways of thinking."

Rose frowned. "Was Quetzalcoatl punished for bringing cocoa to humanity?"

Izaya laughed. "Goodness, no. The Council of the Great Old Ones didn't even exist yet to make such a decision of punishment. Besides, why would they deem it necessary? As far as anyone cared, if Quetzalcoatl wanted to produce cocoa plants on earth, he was free to. I only made the comparison to Prometheus to illustrate the point of him bringing cocoa to earth."

"Did the Great Ones create mankind? If so, why is humanity able to destroy the Great Ones?"

"No, that is another unique trait that humanity possesses. They rose up from the dust of evolution without our notice. We had no hand in their creation. We also don't know why they are able to harm us. Furthermore, we are not able to harm them unless we are directly in their presence. This is difficult to achieve, as there is a barrier between the universe known to man and the universe that the Great Ones live in. This barrier is weakening, however, so we are able to astrally project ourselves into the dreams of humans in order to do whatever we please to their minds."

Rose's frown deepened. "Why is the barrier weakening? When will it be at its weakest?"

Izaya chuckled. "That, my dear," he responded, tapping his temple, "is for me to know, and you to find out."

The twelve year-old sighed, taking another sip of her cocoa. Whose side was this man really on? Hers? The Horrorterrors'? His own? This conversation was providing her with no important information. "How do you know that I'm the offspring of a Great One, anyway? Did my father choose you to tell me?"

He only stayed silent, smirking as always and tapping his temple once again.

Rose pursed her lips, trying to put the puzzle pieces together. Was her sperm donor dead, and Izaya was chosen as the one to tell her? Was Izaya a friend of her father's? Did the Great Ones even form friendships?

Izaya sighed, placing his saucer and cup on the coffee table in between them. "Well, Rose, I'm glad we've been able to have this chat. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again very soon."

Suddenly, Rose felt her strength begin to drain. She glared pointedly at the man in front of her. "What did you put in my drink?"

He smiled. "Oh, now that's something I can tell you." He stood up, walking around the coffee table and sitting down next to her. "I placed an undetectable bit of my- let's call it magic, hm? There's no better word for it in your language- magic in your drink. It only acts on my command, and because it's now running through your veins, I can easily make it convince you to do... well, whatever I wish, really." His cool hands gently pried the teacup and its saucer from her fingers.

Rose slumped over, then felt arms adjust her position until she was lying down with her head on Izaya's lap. In the back of her mind, a voice kept repeating a single word that she couldn't make out.

Izaya smiled softly as he began to twirl Rose's hair between his fingers. "Just sleep, Rose," he suggested quietly. "Things will be better in the morning."

Rose's eyelids slipped shut. She could hardly bear keeping them open. Finally, though, the word in her mind was clear.

_Sleep._

Darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments!


	4. The City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose explores the Ikebukuro District of Tokyo, Japan.

Darkness surrounded the plane that Rose and her mother were taking from California to Japan. As the aforementioned girl gazed outside of the window, she could faintly hear her mother sipping from a plastic cup filled with, not alcohol for once, but water.

Rose scoffed. It was likely going to be the only non-alcoholic drink her mother would have in the next week. _“Dear god,”_ she thought, _“her blood alcohol content will likely be higher than an Irishman’s on Saint Patrick’s Day.”_

They had been in the plane for about three hours already, and still had eight hours to go. That means that Rose had spent three hours silently sitting next to her alcoholic mother who was pretending to actually be a functioning member of society. Needless to say, she was quite exasperated.

She took out her journal and continued where she had left off on one of her stories.  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
GG: darkness surrounds you!  
GG: were all worried about you, rose  
GG: we just want to help

Rose sighed as she attempted to alleviate her friend Jade’s fears about her and the so-called Horrorterrors.

She and her mother had landed from the tedious flight about an hour earlier, and it had taken the entirety of that hour to get off of the plane, fetch their luggage, flag a taxi (this had taken the longest), and get to their hotel.

Rose was surprised to find that her mother was fluent in Japanese, as she hadn't asked for her daughter to translate or communicate for her even once throughout the entire ordeal. She had found their luggage area without Rose's help, as well as communicating with the taxi driver and the person at the front desk of the hotel.

She was begrudgingly impressed with her mother.

TT: I can assure you, Jade, that my vision is as clear as it has always been, as the Seer of Light.  
TT: You remember my title, don’t you?  
TT: Being able to see is my job.  
GG: i know that  
GG: but sometimes you have to trust something other than yourself, rose  
GG: not that you dont trust us  
GG: i know that you do!!  
GG: its just that no one can be entirely alone in the world  
TT: As this conversation has made increasingly evident in its progression, I am far from being “entirely alone in the world.”  
TT: Wouldn’t you agree?  
GG: yes  
GG: but youre trying to be!  
GG: you have to understand that sometimes we know things too

Rose frowned at the screen.

TT: Far be it from me, Jade, to ever underestimate the competence of my dearest friends.  
TT: However, the area of literature, particularly Lovecraft, I have been acknowledged by all of us to be the resident master of the subject.  
GG: argh!  
GG: rose, i love you so much, but its so hard to argue with you

The blonde girl chuckled.

TT: Perhaps that should tell you something, Jade.  
GG: im not going to stop, rose  
GG: youre going to have to deal with me and john and dave for the rest of your life!! :D  
TT: ‘Till death do us part? I do not recall having consented to a polyamorous relationship of this nature.  
GG: rose!!  
GG: dont make me blush!!  
GG: god!

Rose raised an eyebrow at Jade’s response. Did the girl truly wish to enter a relationship of that sort?

Not that she was against that sort of relationship, or even against the idea of joining her closest friends in a sort of odd relationship that would support all of them equally.

Rose and Dave weren’t close enough relatives for incest to become an issue, and neither were John and Jade.

For a moment, Rose indulged herself in the idea of living together with them in an apartment or house of their own.

Jade would likely be sure that the place would always have Space for flowers of both exotic and average origins. Every person in the place would have no less than four computers, just in case, as Jade always said. She would work as a florist of some sort, most likely, and would spend her alone time perhaps making bars of soap from the rinds of her plants to later sell in her shop. Perhaps she would be accused of being a Witch, but whoever did so would not be that far from the truth. Jade had always been a person to dabble in music, so there would be instruments of several different kinds, particularly the guitar, as that was the one that she specialized in.

As for herself, Rose would be the author of the group. Rose had always known that publishing news articles, essays on political and social subjects, and works of literary analysis was going to be her future job, as the Seer of her friend group. Knitting had become a recent hobby of hers, ever since John brought it to Light that previous Christmas. Because of this, every single person who lived in their home or was even a friend of any of them would be in the possession of something knitted. Rose would keep a violin somewhere in the place, as she was quite skillful in the art of playing the violin.

Dave would definitely be spending most of his time creating tracks to his rap music, so the areas around his room would almost always be filled with the sounds of his “dank beats.” Rose smiled slightly to herself at the thought of him calling himself the Knight of the turntable. He’d likely leave messes everywhere that she wouldn't mind cleaning up after, as it was simply one of the consequences of living with the Strider boy. The refrigerator would always be stocked with apple juice, Dave’s favorite beverage of all Time.

Speaking of the refrigerator, John would spend a good deal of his time in the kitchen, as baking was a hobby of his. Posters of magicians and comedians would decorate the walls of their home, as he was the Heir to a long line of comedians himself. Their home would be full of laughter, as John could make anyone laugh until they were out of Breath, if not because of his jokes, because of his silly blunders. John would likely purchase a piano to place in their home, as he knew how to play the instrument quite well.

Under their roof, there would be laughter and music and happiness. Under their roof, all of their friends would be welcome, even Vriska Serket. Under their roof, there would be everything that the original four lacked in their childhood homes. Under their roof, there would be comfort, togetherness, closeness, and absolutely no adolescent awkwardness whatsoever. Under their roof, John wouldn't have to deal with his father’s literal clowning around. Under their roof, Jade wouldn't be so alone. Under their roof, Dave wouldn't have to fight against his older brother in order to keep himself away from harm. Under their roof, Rose would finally be rid of the mother that never seemed to love her, and always seemed like she was destined for more than raising a child like Rose. Under their roof…

GG: rose?  
GG: are you still there?

Rose blinked, startled out of her imagination by the new message.

TT: I apologize, I’m afraid I lost myself for a moment there.  
GG: its okay!  
GG: i have to go now, so ill talk to you later!  
GG: good luck with your mom in japan!! :D  
TT: Thank you, your wishes are truly appreciated.

Rose sighed happily, gently closing her laptop. Finally, a conversation with one of her friends had not ended in aggravation.

Rose and her mother had just landed in Tokyo, Japan, having had a rather tedious flight from California to Japan. Now, they were in the hotel room that her mother had booked, and thankfully, there was a couch to take.

“Rose? Why’re you on the couch,” Rose’s mom asked.

The girl looked over at her. “Why wouldn't I be? Did you expect me to sleep on the same bed with you, mother dear?”

She bit her lip. “I… I guess so, yeah.”

Rose frowned. “Well, with all due respect, I don’t feel comfortable with bedding with you, mother. I hope it doesn’t bother you.”

Roxy crossed her arms, appearing to be attempting to act sternly. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t feel comfortable bedding with someone that I am not fond of.”

The woman blinked in surprise, then bit her scarred lip that was usually hidden with pink lipstick once again. “I… Rose, I-… I’m sorry.”

Rose raised an eyebrow. “What for? You haven’t done anything.”

“Uh, well… Ugh, I dunno. Just… I’ll go to bed now.”

Rose only opened up her laptop in response, starting to tap the keys in order to unlock the device and work on one of her more private stories and to signify that the conversation was over.

When she heard the even breaths of her sleeping mother, Rose quietly slipped out of the apartment with a key and some money stolen from her mother's purse, as she planned to visit a small bookstore/cafe that was across the street.  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
Once Rose stepped outside of the apartment building, she paused to appreciate the cool breeze that blew past her. She sighed happily, then checked the street.

There was a distinct lack of cars in this particular area, so Rose took her time in crossing the street.

That was, until she heard a roar of rage from across the street.

"IIIIZAAAAAYAAA!"

Upon hearing it, she instinctively ran to the other side of the street, after which she looked back to see what the danger was.

A man with his hair bleached blonde had a vending machine in his grip, aiming at- oh, sweet Mary, mother of fuck.

Izaya Orihara.

Rose quickly sped into the bookstore, trying to keep her eyes on the ground in order to avoid the gaze of the suspicious and dangerous man.

Thankfully, she made it inside without incident. She made her way to the classic literature and philosophy section of the book store, hoping to find a book that interested her. Eventually, she found several. After purchasing them, she walked into the cafe portion of the store and ordered a sow-thistle tea.

Rose liked to think that if she drank it enough, it would convince her mother to do the same, as the bitter herb was often used to detoxify livers. She hated herself for it, but Rose did care for her mother, even if in the slightest of ways.

After a few hours of reading and several cups of warm caffeinated beverages, Rose sat up and stretched. She prepared herself to leave, only to be stopped by the voice of a boy who was perhaps a few years older than her.

_"You're not Japanese."_

Rose looked over to the voice to see a blue-haired, brown (almost a dark amber) eyed boy who seemed to be in his freshman year of high school. He was wearing a dark blue-grey trench-coat with a lighter blue shirt under it, along with a dark pair of skinny jeans. He had an innocent smile on his face, but something told Rose that he wasn't as innocent nor as naive as he appeared. Therefore, she decided to be wary of this boy.

_"No, I'm not. Why does it matter?"_

The boy smiled again, then put his hand out to shake. _"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend. I'm Kuronuma Aoba, and you are?"_

Rose shook it hesitantly. _"Lalonde Rose. You are native, I presume?"_

_"Yes. I'm impressed, Rose-chan, that you don't have an accent. Have you been to Japan before?"_

_"Thank you, Kuronuma-san, but this is actually my first time."_

Aoba chuckled. _"You don't have to be so polite, Rose-chan! Just call me Aoba-san, if you insist upon being polite at all,"_ he suggested.

Rose nodded. _"Alright, Aoba-san. Why don't you tell me about yourself? That is, if you're willing; I'm simply curious."_ She wanted to see if he was just as willing to share information as he was to ask for it.

After that, Rose proceeded to have one of the most intellectually stimulating conversations in her life. It was extremely rare for her to meet an intellectual equal to her, so she always indulged herself in conversation when she did. After about two hours, Aoba had to leave, so they exchanged numbers (for later conversations, obviously) and retired.

Once she got back to her hotel room, she found that her mother was still asleep in her bed, unaware that Rose had left and come back at all.

Not that Rose cared.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment to let me know if you liked it! Thanks for reading!


End file.
